


The Prince and His King

by TheOtherSarahJane



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Little Brothers, Reminiscing, Sappy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, little germany
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 23:05:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1959504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOtherSarahJane/pseuds/TheOtherSarahJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During Gilbert's yearly excursion into the attic, he stumbles across some mementos from Ludwig's childhood.</p><p>For the hour-long writing challenge held by germanbrothers on tumblr back in April.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prince and His King

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Imagine Person B reading a sappy and overly romantic story that Person B wrote about Person A. Person A acts really annoyed by it but is secretly really happy that Person B went through the effort to write it."
> 
> I ended up stretching the prompt a bit, but it's cute, so I hope I can be forgiven. (Prompt taken from imagineyourotp.tumblr.com)

Disgruntled floorboards groaned and angry clouds of dust huffed in protest as Gilbert made his noisy way up to the attic, armed with a stack of rags for the yearly attic cleanup. He quickly set about the work with a smile on his face, humming an old tune under his breath while Gilbird fluttered up behind him and settled down on top of his old birdcage in the corner (Gilbert always cleaned it last so he could have a perch while he worked). Dusty as it may be, Gilbert enjoyed doing this—he’d never admit it to West, but sometimes even his old military uniforms and rifles weren’t enough to satisfy his yearning for days past, and though there wasn’t a single artifact in here he hadn’t memorized a hundred times over, finding those things from better days was as close as he got to reliving them. It was like greeting old friends you hadn’t seen in forever, but still spoke to them as if you’d never parted. Yes, he knew every box, every scrap of parchment—

Except that one. Hm.

There was a small box that Gilbert didn’t quite recall seeing before. It was near the front, so had likely been put there recently. Curiously, Gilbert bent down and opened it.

Inside was an array of toys and trinkets from probably the nineteenth century—toy soldiers, things of that nature. Ludwig’s, evidently. His fingers brushed against a finely detailed wooden horse he remembered buying for Ludwig many, many years ago, and he smiled.

He remembered that Ludwig had recently cleaned out his room—he’d assumed that those boxes set aside had been to throw away, and hadn’t bothered looking in them, but apparently Ludwig had just moved them up here instead. Well, no matter, he’d seen everything anyway, and there wasn’t much nostalgia in someone else’s old toys. He was about to close the box and move it aside when a flash of muted color caught his eye at the bottom of the box.

Carefully, Gilbert pushed aside the toys on top and pulled it out. It was a few sheets of parchment, bound together clumsily at the side with some sort of string and with a child’s handwriting covering every page. This was something he didn’t remember—perhaps some old schoolwork?

But when Gilbert looked closer and read the painfully neat script, he frowned in confusion.

"There was once a young prince named…Ludwig?" Gilbert blinked. He read on a few more sentences, in which the young prince told about his home—a big and beautiful castle, with horses and many, many books everywhere—and then his eyes widened at the mention of his name.

_The ruler of the castle was a king named Gilbert. He was strong and handsome and everyone in the land loved him. His hair was silver and his eyes were red, and he was the most powerful king in the world. Prince Ludwig loved him very much._

Gilbert’s face went scarlet, and he couldn’t hide his giddy grin as he read on.

_But an evil king nearby hated King Gilbert, and he wanted to take away all of his land and beat him. Evil King Roderich—_

Gilbert nearly burst out laughing. He’d never been so proud. Guess some of his smack talk had gotten through to the kid after all.

Eagerly, he drank up every simple sentence after that, gleefully soaking up the tale of the Amazing King Gilbert defeating the Evil King Roderich’s army (which marched into battle to the notes of his sinister mind-controlling piano, Gilbert noted with tears of laughter in his eyes) and returning home, bloodied but triumphant, to Prince Ludwig.

_And then Prince Ludwig and King Gilbert were happy and had a feast in the castle, and everyone in the kingdom was happy. And King Gilbert danced with Prince Ludwig at the ball, and he was the most handsome man there. And then King Gilbert promised he would never leave the Prince to go to war again, and the Evil King never tried to take over again, and Prince Ludwig and King Gilbert lived together and were happy forever. The end._

Gilbert’s laughter died down reading the last sentence.

_And then King Gilbert promised he would never leave the Prince to go to war again…_

Maybe he had been gone a lot in those days, it occurred to him. He’d explained to Ludwig every time that war was just what nations did, and it was as much for Ludwig’s good as his, but he realized now that maybe Ludwig had gotten lonely sometimes. The thought had never really occurred to him before.

And the way that Ludwig talked about him, the way he seemed so adoring…to think that he had ever thought of his big brother like that, event through the differences they had always had—

There was still one sheet of parchment left, and Gilbert flipped the previous page to look at it.

It was a painting—simple and childish, but charming—of Ludwig and Gilbert, many years ago, smiling and standing proudly in front of a great castle, hand in hand.

Gilbert’s hand came up to cover his face, but a moment later he had to hurriedly compose himself as he heard Ludwig’s heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Oh, good, you’re cleaning the attic," he said as he entered the attic. "I’m glad you—Gilbert?"

Gilbert turned to look at his now fully grown little brother, and Ludwig’s eyes flicked down from his face to the parchment in his hand. Ludwig’s face colored immediately, and he began sputtering abashedly.

"How did you—what’s—why are you reading that? And why is your face so red?"

"You’re one to talk!" Gilbert snickered, hiding his bashfulness behind a typical mask of immaturity. "I was just reading something you wrote as a kid, talking all about the awesome, strong and super manly King Gilbert!" He giggled as Ludwig’s face reddened further, half from the silliness of the story and half from a whole slew of things he couldn’t quite express.

"You weren’t meant to see that," Ludwig grumbled, and Gilbert grinned.

"I guess not," Gilbert chuckled. "I didn’t raise you to write sappy fairy tales, you sissy. Though I did like the Evil Austria. Nice touch."

"I was a child!" Ludwig defended, but Gilbert’s eyes softened, and Ludwig deciphered something like fondness in his smile.

"Yeah, you were," Gilbert nodded, and put the parchment stack back into the box. "And in that case…" he stood up, tossed his arm around Ludwig’s broad shoulders, and gave him a peck on the cheek— "I guess I can forgive it."


End file.
